


Scars to Your Beautiful

by ShuckTsubo



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Love, Slice of Life, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-10-17 10:06:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17558342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShuckTsubo/pseuds/ShuckTsubo
Summary: Sakura and Hana discuss their pasts, and learn that they care for each other even more deeply than they thought.





	Scars to Your Beautiful

**Author's Note:**

> This is a follow-up to [ Hana and Sakura's support logs (1192 words)](https://fireemblem.fandom.com/wiki/Sakura/Supports#With_Hana). If you aren't familiar with those, I really suggest reading them first. Otherwise, this fic might not make too much sense.

Hana lay on her side, facing the edge of the bed. Behind her, she could feel Sakura's gentle presence, a subtle pressure on her arms and back assuring her she was there. Moonlight streamed in through a window behind them, casting a soft glow on the room.  
Hana felt the sheets shift underneath her, and then the gentle touch of Sakura's hand on her back. She hummed quietly, smiling at the feeling.  
The hand began to move, fingers tracing up and down Hana's back. She lay there, content to let Sakura explore the details of her skin.  
But after a few moments, the movements started to feel familiar.  
A few seconds more, and Hana recognized the patterns.  
Sakura drew a circle around an area on Hana's lower back, where she had landed on hard gravel after being pushed by a thug who had been harassing Sakura.  
Her fingers outlined a bite mark on Hana's side, from when a wild dog had attacked Sakura.  
She brushed her hand along Hana's arm, where a knife had cut her when a man tried to rob Sakura.  
Hana noticed a slight tremble in Sakura's fingers as she traced a diagonal line across her shoulder blade, where a runaway cart had struck her after she pushed Sakura out of its path.  
Concerned, Hana murmured, “Sakura?”  
The hand left her back at once, and Sakura's breath caught.  
Hana lay still, not saying anything more. She hadn't meant to disturb her.  
Sakura lay motionless, too. Hana wasn't sure if she had done something wrong.  
Their quiet breathing barely held back the oppressive silence that surrounded them.  
Just as Hana was beginning to wonder if Sakura had fallen asleep, she spoke.  
“Do you know why I became a shrine maiden?”  
Hana paused. She knew the answer, of course, but it was a strange question to ask, especially in this moment.  
“You had a natural aptitude for it. You wanted to help the people of your country, to heal them, and you felt that honouring the gods as you did so was a good way to fulfill that goal.”  
Behind her, Sakura exhaled. “Those are the reasons I told them, yes. But the truth is a lot simpler than that.”  
“The truth?” Hana asked,  
Sakura took a breath, and then, “I became a shrine maiden so I could heal, yes. But it wasn't the populace of Hoshido I wanted to help. It was _you_. I wanted to make sure that you wouldn't have any more scars from protecting me, because I'd always be there to mend your wounds.”  
Now it was Hana's breath that caught. She didn't know what to say. She had never known that Sakura had chosen this path... for _her_.  
“You know I love you, right?”  
Hana's eyes widened, and she turned around to face Sakura.  
The woman who looked back at her had tears in her eyes. She looked so scared, so vulnerable.  
In that moment, Hana saw the face of the girl she had sworn to protect all those years ago, those same fine features, that same need for comfort and warmth.  
In that moment, Hana saw the face of the woman who, now more than ever, she knew she wanted to spend the rest of her life with.  
“Yes,” she replied, then leaned forward and kissed Sakura. She pulled back just an inch, and with their lips still touching, murmured,  
“I love you, too.”


End file.
